Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Bech pushes a vending machine cup at Cappelli. “What’s she saying?”

Cappelli hooks a thumb into a pocket “Never gets any fucking better does it? Denying everything of course. Says she’s being framed.”

Bech barks a laugh. “Of course. Just another victim of a tragic miscarriage of justice.”

“Aren’t they all? Still, looks like that lawyer of hers is going to get her sprung. Bail’s set high but the judge is allowing it. No previous. And it looks like they share a school tie.”

Fuck!

“Who is he? He looked pretty high-class to be the legal for a hooker.”

“Theo Aldred. Subs for Max Devlin. From Hofferman and Partners…”

“Hofferman’s? The prosecutors on the Romani Family case?”

“Yup. Don’t envy him that one. They’ve got all the wits under protection and the judge and lawyers have full surveillance.” Cappelli sucks at the coffee, pulls a face. “Stone-cold… You’re right though. You’d not think he’d turn up for the likes of that one would you?” He tilts the cup at Bech. “I’m going to the machine for another. Want one?”

“Thanks, but no. I’m off in five.”

*****

So, the bitch got herself sprung…

Back in his apartment, Bech paces, curses, bangs his fist on the wall. Then…

The blindingly fuckin’ obvious…

He checks the card index,

And sure enough…

Maximillian Devlin. Lawyer. Married twice. Son by previous.

One daughter by current marriage - favourite topic of conversation. Likes rabbits and pink. Got a pony. Gymkhana. Head girl at Ponterbury.

*****

Michael

wake, disoriented for a moment as I take in stone arches and vaulted ceilings, then brain-cells line up in good order and I remember where I am. Beside me lies Charlotte; eyes closed, breathing

sheets thrown back, but when I listen, there is a faint

Beauty. She’s looking better than she has since we returned from the last visit to

Her father…

Christ…

has lost that sallow hue, and her cheeks are brushed

Babe…

the line of high cheekbones with a

the stranger who looked out at me for the last few days, but my beautiful wife; my copper-haired, emerald-eyed, wilful, frustrating,

touch

stroking her face,

“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine now. I’m

finger to her lips. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I don’t think any of us would have reacted well to learning what you did.” Tracing a curved brow with the pad of my thumb. “Sometimes life throws shit at us, knocks us

gaze, she bobs

“you have to be in a better state than that if you really want to get yourself pregnant.” Her eyes lift again, widening. “Do you? That’s

voice is a whisper. “Is that

That’s what I said when we talked about it. It’s fine. Just

my lips across hers. Her hand curves around the back of my head. “Thank you.” She nuzzles into the crook of neck and shoulder. “I missed you. It was lonely in that

I never will go away…” She sighs. “And yes, I’ve been looking forward to being back

forehead creases. “You mean

in

James holds a tray. The scents of

nostrils flare and she sits bolt upright.

James grins. “She’s back.”

*****

Twenty-Six Years Ago